


gentle rain

by orphan_account



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:36:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2252688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you open your eyes one morning, it's the soft patter of raindrops that awakens you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	gentle rain

When you open your eyes one morning, it's the soft patter of raindrops that awakens you. The bed drapes blow gently in the early morning breeze, light shimmering on the marble floors. There's slight movement to your right, and you look down, a fond smile on your face.

"Good morning, Sin." You say in a soft voice, your hand resting upon your king's head. His eyes blink open sleepily and he rolls over to face you.

"Morning, Ja'far..." He yawns loudly, closing his eyes again. "What time is it?"

"Time for work, don't you think?"

"Mm, no..." He mumbles into your bedshirt, dragging you back down next to him, and you huff quietly. His lips find yours, pressing gently to your mouth and you sigh, breathing in the scent of exotic spices and petrichor. A hand comes around the back of your head and holds your neck gently, each finger digging lightly into your skin. When you part for breath, a corner of your mouth tilts up as you lock eyes with your king.

"Ah, I see, and it's not too early for this?"

"It's never too early to make love to you, Ja'far."

You struggle to keep a straight face.

Biting your lip, you duck your head, your cheeks burning already. "Sin, honestly…?"

"Certainly." He kisses you again, and before you realize it, your hands are already tangling themselves into threads of purple hair, your body seamlessly melting into his embrace. The kisses continue: once, twice, thrice, and—

"Damn it, Sin..." You breathe in between one kiss and another, and he laughs gently, voice thick from sleep. His fingers draw lines and shapes on your skin, ghosting over your neck, your collarbone, playing with the collar of your shirt.

The rain becomes the soundtrack for this morning, each drop ebbing in and out of your conscious mind. Focusing on something so faint in the background deems itself difficult, and you give up shortly after Sin's hands make their way to your hips and the hem of your pants. Your breaths come out in soft puffs mingled with sleep, and the sound of rain somehow makes it white noise. Even with your mind dim and fuzzy now, the only sensations you seem to take notice of are his breaths, his wandering touch, and the patter of rain outside on the balcony. He rolls over on top of you, and you have to lean your head back in order to kiss him now, each one becoming slightly more urgent than the last. You place your hands on his shoulder blades and grip the long hair falling haphazardly around you like a curtain, eyes shut gently and mouth open just a little, if only for room to breathe. He preps you slowly, and you're not sure if it's because he just woke up or if he really doesn't want to hurt you _too_ much in the morning, but you appreciate it nonetheless. The pleasure spreads throughout your limbs, to your fingertips, pooling in your stomach and finally, you allow a soft moan to escape your lips, fingers tightening around his back. You can practically hear Sin smirking in accomplishment, and you make note to get back at him later, but for now, you relax and allow your body to become his, once again.

He presses light kisses to your lips, forehead, chest, anywhere within reach, before he takes you. And between the sound of the rain falling faster on the balcony and the quiet gasps shared between you and your king, you can't decide which seems louder. Your hands dig into his shoulder blades as he moves against you, leaving nail marks for sure, and somewhere in your mind you feel validated, knowing that he chose _you_ , and you, too, can leave such a mark on him. After all, while you've left many scars and marks on countless people, only Sin, your king, has ones like these.

He whispers your name against your chest, urgently like a prayer, and just hearing him say it like that pulls on your heart, and your eyes burn with tears at the thought of it. The sheer thought that maybe, despite his experience with these endeavors in the past, only your name is what leaves his lips; that only you are begged of constantly, wanted, needed, like something so irreplaceable—

"S...Sin," His name falls from your lips like rain as you toss your head to the side, your eyes shut and back arching to meet each of his movements, and he pulls you in for another kiss.

"Ja'far..." He breathes against your lips, and you open your eyes just enough to see the golden amber eyes heavy with lust but alit with love, the soft blue light from outside painting his hair a hue you can't even begin to describe, his chest rising and falling, the bed shaking from your weight, the rain hitting the ground in cascades—

And all it takes is for him to capture your lips in his and one final thrust before you come together, your voice shaking and entire body shuddering from passion. Sin lets out a gentle groan before collapsing next to you, breathing hard. You glance over at him with eyes lidded from the aftermath and exhaustion, but somehow you find just enough energy to give him a smile, one that he returns with just as much effort. The two of you lie there for a couple moments, breathing returning to normal and fingers intertwined. Your entire body feels fuzzy, buzzing warmly with feeling, as if the nerves at each of your fingertips suddenly went soft. You almost fall asleep right then and there, until Sin sneezes.

"Still not too early?" You laugh in a sleepy voice and turn to him with a knowing smile on your face.

"Never too early," he responds readily, but then rubs his nose, frowning. "It sure is cold though."

"Your fault for leaving the balcony doors open, you know.”

“As my advisor, you should have told me to close them!”

“Ah, yes yes, of course,” you grin, rolling your eyes. “Next time, then.”

“We’ll do this again?” He asks you, almost _too much_ hope and excitement in his voice, and you shove his arm lightly.

“I was talking about the doors, for Solomon’s sake. Can’t you just be satisfied for now?”

Sin mumbles something incoherent into his pillow, and you sigh, deciding to leave him be. As soon as you sit up though, you take note of the lack of clothes and the mess the two of you made, grimacing. A pain to clean up, you’re sure. _The maids certainly shouldn't handle things like this_ , you think to yourself while shaking your head.

Sin sits up, eventually, and the two of you stare outside the balcony from bed, rain continuing to fall steadily upon the country you love so dearly. The scent of petrichor makes its way back to your senses, and you sigh, accepting it as you inhale the morning air. Even though the sky is gray, the morning light shines just enough through the clouds to cast light shows on the colored marble.

Somehow, the rain is gentle, like a mother’s hand, or a lover’s embrace.

 

 


End file.
